Execute Command
Night 4
Summary: You play house with Springtrap. Plot twist, he's a terrible partner.
Words: 7,448
Fun stuff: Trigger warnings for blood, non-con behavior (nothing is sexual, but he does and thinks things that elicit that imagery), abusive relationships, obsessive behavior, trauma and psyche related dissociation, graphic descriptions of violence.
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A melodic ringing snapped me out of my trance. You too paused, your gentle caress stopping. I felt you turn your head to the side.
“...Bonnie,” your voice was sore with fatigue, a low dull monotony. “It’s morning.”
Gears clicked in my head as I came back to awareness, as if I was truly waking up. I lifted up off of you. You looked deeply exhausted. Your eyes were bloodshot; dark circles shadowed under them. Your hand I held twitched when I let it go, the circulation returning to your fingertips. You didn’t even react as I tilted your chin up.
Your neck was decorated with a lovely purple. My favorite color.
I looked at the source of the ringing. It was your thin phone. With mechanical and uneven movements, I pick it up in all its flashing lights and sound. That seemed to wake you up. You went to sit up, but I pushed you back down by your chest.
... I didn’t know how to answer it. I didn’t know if my rotting fingers had the dexterity to answer it. My fingers twitched and jerked under this realization.
I held the phone to your ear.
You pressed against its screen as I held it for you, “... Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.” The nightguard.
“Hey.”
“You sound exhausted.”
You couldn’t meet my eyes, “Long night.”
“I can tell,” They said. “How is... uhm, it.”
“T̷e̴l̶l̸ ̴t̷h̸e̶m̶ ̸n̵o̴t̴h̶i̵n̵g̷.̶”
“What?”
You faked a cough, “Sorry. It’s going well. I fixed the storage protocol it had.”
“... And it hasn’t...?”
“What, come to life and killed me yet?” Fatigue seeped into your voice as you dryly humored yourself with your own private joke. “I’m fine.”
“Good. Good. When are you going to call the police about...?”
“The body?” You exhaled as you looked to the side, “I don’t know. Soon.”
Your name was said in exasperation, “Please! Take this seriously!”
You looked at me. Your eyes were a colorless slate. Exhausted. Defeated. It was as though you knew your fate. You weren’t getting out of this alive. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll call them the day after tomorrow.”
A sigh left your phone, “Thank you... Do you wanna grab dinner before I head to work tonight? It was boring last night.”
“I̴n̴v̶i̸t̶e̷ ̵t̷h̴e̵m̶ ̷h̶e̸r̴e̷.̵”
Your brow twinged. You didn’t say anything.
The voice on the phone asked your name in a question.
“I̴n̴v̶i̸t̶e̷ ̵t̷h̴e̵m̶ ̷h̶e̸r̴e̷,” I commanded again.
A familiar expression crossed your features, one I saw often in my past life. Of course I’d be familiar with it, I ran a pizzeria crawling with beastly little brats day in and day out. But it was a lifetime ago, and by the time I recognized it, it was already too late.
You snatched the phone out of my hand and rolled out from under me, “Dinner sounds great. Quit your job. Do not go back. Don’t even go back tonight. Don’t-”
I grabbed your ankle with a tight crushing squeeze and you hissed in pain. I dragged you back to me, ripped the phone out of your hand, and shattered it in one forceful clasp.
You stupid brat. You dull-minded idiot. Did all that exhaustion cloud your judgement? Or were you just that stupid.
A furious popping and fizzing dripped from my choking, gasping voicebox.
You winced at its screeching, but you hardened your gaze as you looked up at me, “I’m not gonna let you kill my friend.”
“L̶e̸t̷ ̸m̵e̴?̷” I laughed, but the sound that left my voicebox sounded more like snarling, choking hyenas. “Y̶o̸u̸ ̴w̸o̸n̷'̴t̷ ̵h̵a̵v̶e̶ ̸a̷ ̶c̸h̵o̷i̸c̶e̸.̵”
“Touch them,” Hot, burning venom dripped from your tongue as your gaze seared into me like a brand. “And I’ll kill you.”
Oh, I liked that. Your anger burned hot, your eyes hardening with a determination I wanted to break. I bet I could choke the rage out of you, suffocating you with fear until not even your anger could keep you warm. I bet I could make you hate me until all your thoughts were plagued by me. I bet I could keep you up at night without having to even touch you.
You exhaled, and your sweet anger left with your breath. You touched my arm and my eyes clicked to it. You were trying to calm me again. “Look. I don’t want to fight.”
My head twitched, mechanically. “Y̷o̶u̷'̶d̶ ̵l̵o̶s̴e̶.̷”
“Hypothetically, maybe,” I didn’t know which stunned me more, your audacity or your touch. Your thumb rhythmically rubbed back and forth and it sent electricity up my arm. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m going to fix your noise protocol and then...”
My eyes snapped to yours and you shuddered.
“And then you can go back to haunt Fazbear’s or whatever. I don’t care what you do.”
I tilted my head to the side, the motion sharp and unnatural. I felt Bonnie’s ears lean heavily. “D̴o̵ ̵y̷o̶u̷ ̸t̸h̷i̶n̸k̸ ̸y̴o̴u̶'̷l̵l̸ ̷s̸u̶r̵v̷i̵v̵e̷ ̶t̶h̵i̶s̶?̶”
You swallowed, thick and anxious. Your grip on my arm tightened. You chewed your bottom lip, “I can be useful beyond just fixing your protocol. Your parts are ancient. Parts could break. You could come back to me if anything broke.”
I wanted to laugh at how pathetic you sounded, suggesting anything you could think of to try convincing me. I bet I could make you beg for your life—beg to be my personal mechanic. Beg to be mine... A thrill traveled up my spine at the thought. I opened my jaw, and my voice cracked to haunted, strangled life, “H̷y̵p̵o̷t̷h̴e̴t̸i̸c̸a̶l̸l̸y̵,̸ ̵m̶a̶y̵b̶e̷.̵”
You deadpanned, and it made you look all the more tired. You let go of my arm and my second skin itched to have you back, “I need to make food.”
I didn’t move, but I didn’t hold you back either.
You crawled out from under me, keeping your eyes on me in case I made any sudden movements. You slowly edged toward the door, still watching me.
In an abrupt robotic jolt, I unlatched my jaw with a sharp mechanical hiss. You flinched. Funny.
You cooked as if on autopilot, barely seeing the food in front of you. At intervals, you moved your attention to me, ensuring I wasn’t about to kill you.
When your food was done, you just sat in front of it, staring. You didn’t have an appetite. You looked back at me, “Do you eat?”
My body craved food once, long ago. My need for sleep and air outweighed my hunger and thirst, however. All of it was nothing compared to the pain.
“...So you’re just watching because...?”
I liked to watch.
You exhaled, your breath shaking. You forced yourself to eat. In between bites, you said, “I need to go out-”
I slammed a hand on the table, shaking your plate. You froze. “Y̵o̸u̶ ̶a̴r̴e̴ ̷n̸o̷t̸ ̴l̵e̴a̸v̶i̶n̴g̴.̴”
You kept my eye-contact, deliberately steady, “I can’t fix you without equipment.”
“Y̷o̶u̷ ̶h̶a̸v̶e̴ ̴e̴q̷u̵i̸p̴m̴e̴n̵t̷.̵” I said, strangled breath starting to seep louder through my voicebox.
“I did,” You said. “Before you ripped my wires apart. Twice.”
I imagined strangling you with those wires. I imagined using them as a garotte. I imagined your skin and flesh breaking with every twist of my wrists. I imagined you choking on your blood and tears, promising me you’ll stay—groveling to stay.
“Alright,” You said, your eyes wide at whatever expression I was wearing. You threw your hands up in surrender. “I’ll see if I can get it delivered. Good lord.”
My head twitched.
When you were done forcing yourself to eat, you took your thin computer to your living room. You tried to angle your computer away from me, but I moved it back. You swallowed. I watched as you ordered wires from some kind of catalogue on the computer.
You stared at your computer screen, not moving.
“...I have to let my friend know I’m okay or they’ll call the police.”
“Y̵o̸u̶ ̶a̴r̴e̴ ̷n̸o̷t̸ ̴l̵e̴a̸v̶i̶n̴g̴.̴”
“Yeah, you said that,” You snapped, turning to me with annoyance. The moment you laid eyes on me, your eyes wavered in fear and you turned back to your computer screen. “But you broke my phone. So.”
I said nothing.
“Don’t you think having the police involved might complicate things a little?”
“Y̷o̵u̴ ̷w̶i̶l̶l̸ ̸s̴e̵n̴d̸ ̵t̷h̷e̷m̵ ̸a̶w̷a̸y̷.̵”
Your eyes briefly flicked to me, “I told them I’d do dinner.”
“T̶h̴e̷n̸ ̶p̷r̸a̷y̵ ̴t̶h̵e̸y̴ ̴d̸o̷n̵'̶t̵ ̶c̴o̶m̷e̴ ̵t̵o̸ ̸y̷o̷u̴.̶”
You stared ahead of you, eyes fixing with a cold chill, “You are as dark as you look.”
I stared at you. Your gaze set so assuredly. Stubbornly. I needed to break that.
> Execute command [HOLD_HANDS]
I slipped my hand into yours—the same hand I held the night before—interlocking our fingers and pressing into your couch with a slow crack of your knuckles. You winced under the pressure, sucking in a breath of air. I leaned closer to you. “D̶o̴ ̴y̷o̵u̸ ̶w̵a̶n̴t̷ ̴t̷o̵ ̸l̵e̵a̶v̵e̵?̵”
“What-?”
“D̶o̵ ̵i̷t̶.̵ ̶L̶e̸a̶v̷e̵.̶” I unhinged my jaw, and your eyes fell to my flesh beyond my mask.
You swallowed, and you couldn’t drag your eyes from my corpse, “...Why?”
“W̶h̸e̷n̴ ̵y̸o̸u̷ ̷r̵e̴t̶u̸r̸n̵,̶ ̶I̷ ̴w̴o̵n̶'̸t̴ ̸b̶e̴ ̶h̸e̸r̶e̶.̵ ̸I̴'̸l̷l̸ ̸b̸e̷ ̷w̷i̴t̴h̸ ̶t̶h̸e̶m̶.̵ ̸T̵h̴e̵y̷ ̷c̶a̸n̵'̴t̶ ̴r̸u̸n̸ ̶f̴r̵o̴m̶ ̴m̵e̸.̶” My breath wheezed as I leaned closer to you. I could feel the heat emanating from your blood, so warm against my cold, lifeless body.“I̸'̸l̵l̷ ̸m̵a̶k̸e̸ ̸i̴t̴ ̶l̵a̵s̶t̴.̵ W̷e̴'̸l̸l̴ ̴p̶l̸a̸y̶ ̶g̶a̵m̴e̶s̵.̷. ̶A̴n̸d̴ ̵w̷h̷e̷n̷ ̷I̴'̶m̶ ̴d̷o̴n̴e̶,̸ ̵I̸'̵l̴l̷ ̷c̸o̷m̷e̴ ̴b̷a̵c̸k̸ ̷f̶o̶r̷ ̴y̵o̵u̵.” I almost wished you would leave. If it weren’t for the terrible white noise that plagued me, I would’ve encouraged you to. I tapped into Spring Bonnie’s voice, “I̷'̸l̷l̴ ̴t̸h̵r̷o̶w̸ ̸y̶o̶u̵ ̵a̴ ̸p̸a̵r̸t̷y̶.̷ I̵'̸l̵l̵ ̸g̴i̵v̸e̶ ̶y̴o̵u̷ ̵a̴ ̷g̸i̵f̴t̷.̴” I tilted my head, and my ears felt heavy as they leaned with a terrible creak. “W̶o̴u̸l̷d̶ ̷y̴o̵u̶ ̴l̷i̷k̶e̴ ̷a̴ ̶g̴i̷f̸t̶,̵ ̷c̷a̵r̶r̵o̴t̶?̸”
I wanted to see you shrink in fear. I wanted to see you burn with hatred. I wanted to feel your shock, horror, disgust, anger, despair, terror, desperation, agony—I wanted to pull emotion out of you like cotton candy. You gave me none of that. You gave me nothing. Your eyes glazed with a cold, numbness. How frustrating! How utterly unsatisfying.
“No,” You said, and your eyes were as lifeless as mine.
My breath wheezed, yearning for more from you. “D̶o̴ ̴y̷o̵u̸ ̶w̵a̶n̴t̷ ̴t̷o̵ ̸l̵e̵a̶v̵e̵?̵” I asked again.
“No,” You turned back to your computer, your hand still in my possession. “I don’t.”
I tilted your head back to me, and you let me do it. As disappointing as your response was, there was something that I liked about that. “G̸o̷o̵d̸ ̴c̵a̵r̸r̷o̵t̵.̴”
You didn’t respond.
I watched you as you worked. You were focused on something unfamiliar. Whatever it was, it didn’t have to do with me. I didn’t care. I liked watching you work. You were slow, though. You only had one hand to use your keyboard and mouse. I wouldn’t let go of your hand. I could feel your pulse in between your fingers, blood rushing in a rhythmic tempo. I was lulled by it. Your living body was my music box.
After some time, you cast your eyes in my direction, “I need my other hand.”
I executed the command squeeze. You winced.
“You could lay your head on my lap?” You asked.
How patronizing. I hated that you knew I needed to touch you. I hated that you used it to placate me. I hated that it worked. You vile rotten little thing. I squeezed your hand tighter still, and a sharp gasp left your lips.
“Okay, ‘no’ would’ve worked.” You said between strained breaths. “How about I sit in your lap?”
A low hiss escaped from my machinery. It was nothing to you. Touching me was nothing to you, while it was everything to me. I resented you for that. I squeezed tighter still.
“Ow!” Your hiss of pain echoed mine as you cursed under your breath, trying to pry my hand off of yours, “Ow-ow-ow! Is there no winning with you?!”
The fact that you were still alive was winning, did you not realize how lucky you were?
“You can have my hand, just-!” Your fingers were useless as you tried pulling my grip free of your hand. It wouldn’t work, but I enjoyed feeling you try, “Please-!”
> execute([RELEASE])
You swiped your hand back to your chest too quickly. I was almost in shock. But then, I was enraged. Didn’t Bonnie want to hold you as much as I did? Didn’t he need your touch just as much?! Stupid soft-hearted rabbit! I would rip his wires from my veins if it meant being rid of his control.
You were rubbing your hand rhythmically while scanning me, your eyes puzzled and searching. It made me more annoyed. I felt my voicebox pop and fizzle in agitation, and you shied from me. Then, something calculative crossed your eyes. I’d seen it before, when you worked. When you solved the mystery of my voicebox, my storage protocol, my true nature.
You held out your hand to me, a sacrificial offering, “I want you to hold me, Bonnie. Will you please hold me?”
Rage calmed like cool water over heated metal. In a moment, I was spellbound by your words. I want you to hold me. Will you please hold me. I want you to hold me. Will you please hold me. I want you. Please hold me. I want you. Please hold me. I want you. Please. I want you. Please. I want you. Please.
Oh, you sweet liar. You lovely little snake. Pleasure trailed up my spine like a drug. You didn’t want to touch me. You were repulsed by me. That didn’t matter—you knew it didn’t matter and so did I.
I inclined closer to you, and you drew back by instinct. I liked that. Bonnie was a live wire with the desire to do as you begged. I placed my large hand so close to your thigh, leaning over you. “C̵o̷m̸m̸a̴n̷d̸,̷” My choked breath felt heavy under the weight of my pleasure. “n̷o̵t̶ ̸r̶e̷c̵o̷g̴n̸i̴z̶e̸d̵.̷ R̴e̸p̶e̸a̴t̵ ̷y̷o̸u̸r̸ ̶r̷e̴q̴u̷e̷s̸t̵.̴”
Your face scrunched up in an annoyance that I found delightful. I could practically feel you restraining yourself from rolling your eyes or making some snarky quip. However, clever carrot that you were, you understood your place. You were my hostage. “I want you to hold me. Please hold me, Bonnie.”
“A̶g̶a̴i̵n̶.̵” My voice was more my own than Bonnie’s.
You swallowed, “Please hold me, B-”
“A̶g̶a̸i̴n̵.̷”
“...Please hold me.”
A strange sound left my voicebox; it sounded like the dying of glass and metal in a broken whine. My gears felt hot. My flesh felt wired. My head felt too light, it hurt. I wanted you. I wanted to taste you. I would have you.
I could hear your pulse echo in my head. I would feel it against my teeth.
You shouldn’t have been so sweet to me.
I held out my hand to you; rotten fur and soiled metal. I needed you to initiate. I needed you to want it.
You gently, tentatively, reluctantly placed your hand in mine.
Your surrender was ecstasy.
I affectionately wrapped my claws around your wrist. How lucky you were to be the object of my affection, even if only for now... Your gut reaction was to tense, but you didn’t pull away. Good carrot.
I dragged your forearm to my teeth, my jaw a breath away from your veins. I could smell your blood beneath your skin. I felt your pulse through your wrist. Your heart raced. I loved when I made your heart race. “D̷o̷ ̵y̵o̵u̵ ̵l̷i̴k̸e̸ ̶m̶e̷,̶ ̷c̷a̵r̸r̴o̶t̵?̸” If you said anything other than ‘yes’, I would break your arm.
You blinked, stalled for just a second, before you said, “Sure.”
My mechanical eyes focused on you, my grip tightening on your wrist, and my head twitching to the side. I couldn’t tell if that satisfied me.
“I mean, yes!” Whatever expression I was making moved you to correct yourself, “I like you.”
My voice box reverberated with a low, pleased purr. I unlatched my jaw in a squelching and sticking release, delighted with how you reacted in disgust. I angled my jaw over your arm—I needed your reaction. I would sear the image of your expression in my memory forever: eyes widened with the horror of realization.
Slowly, I sank my teeth—both my teeth—into your flesh.
You were warm. You were alive. I could feel your pulse directly on my corpse. Pain and pleasure mingled in searing intensity when I touched you with my actual body. I wanted it. I wanted you seared onto me like a brand. And I wanted to be a scar you could never heal from.
You choked a gasp, your free hand digging into my shoulder as you braced yourself. Pathetic. I bit enough to bruise, not to break skin. I should’ve torn your flesh apart. But... you were so sweet to me, how could I deny you a reward? I had always been guilty of spoiling my favorites...
I let you go, and your body relaxed. Your breath came in heavy, hot pants, as if you too were coming down from a high.
Maybe you were? Maybe you liked my attention?
... No... There was something missing when I looked at you. I forced myself not to think about it. I wouldn’t let your detachment ruin my satisfaction.
Your eyes widened with renewed horror when you saw two sets of bitemarks. Pleasure shuddered through me. I wasn’t done.
I slowly pulled you towards me, and you let me. Strange. I thought you would struggle. You didn’t. I angled my jaw over your shoulder, my mouth large enough to stretch from your neck to your upper arm. You shivered with anticipation underneath my cold, simulated breath. I adored how you shook in my grasp. “D̴o̸ ̸y̷o̸u̶ ̶w̵a̴n̶t̵ ̵t̴o̷ ̸l̶e̸a̵v̵e̷ ̵m̸e̸,̷ ̸c̴a̴r̶r̴o̶t̷?̶” If you said anything other than ‘no’, I would tear your throat out.
Your throat was close enough to me that I heard you swallow. “No,” Your voice was tense, your breath strained. You knew what I was going to do. “I want to stay.”
I sank my teeth into you again, my voicebox grinding in a low delight. You sucked in air through your teeth, bracing against my shoulder again. My grip tightened around your wrist, while my other hand came around your waist. In one sharp motion, I pulled your body flush to mine. Your gasp was that of a lover’s... It made my decayed heart skip.
I didn’t break skin again. You lucky thing. I wished my tongue hadn’t decayed to nothing so I could pull sounds from you with it.
I let you go with that sickening squelch again, and your body went slack. Your chest heaved. You were sweating. Everything about you was so alive and I loved that I tasted it. I deserved to taste it. You belonged to me. Your compliance was proof of that.
I let go of your wrist and moved my hand to your waist so that I was holding both your hips. I relished how your heartbeat raced when I lightly nuzzled your collarbone, hardly touching you—a facsimile of affection I yearned to pull fear from. I continued to descend past your chest and sternum. Pleasure cooed from me as I felt your hyperventilating. I angled my jaw over one side of your waist, my teeth stretching from the last of your ribs to the tip of your pelvic bone.
By instinct, your hand came to the back of my head. I adored that. You weren’t trying to pull me off, but I could tell you wanted to. You knew who you belonged to.
I let you breathe. I let you adjust. I let you get used to my presence so close, so intimate. I wanted to lower your heart rate so I could make it race again.
When your sweat cooled, and you could finally match my gaze, I asked, “D̶o̴ ̸y̸o̶u̴ ̷b̴e̴l̵o̷n̶g̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̸m̷e̵,̵ ̴c̸a̷r̴r̴o̵t̵?̵” If you said anything other than ‘yes’, I would gut you.
You made a face. Your face scrunched in annoyance. You didn’t like it. It didn’t matter if you didn’t like it, I still owned you, and it pissed me off you hesitated. My grip on your waist tightened, my mechanical eyes narrowing.
You sighed, as if it was a chore and how that infuriated me, “Yes.”
My claws dug into your hips. Furious fizzing and popping came from my voicebox. You didn’t believe it. You would soon.
You cringed against my touch, before something akin to a whine left your throat, spoiled brat, “Don’t make me say it...”
I buried my teeth into the flesh of your hip, blood spilling from you in a euphoric warmth. You tasted like iron and salt and a pleasure sweeter than cake. Like scratching a maddening itch, strangled curses left your throat as your nails dug into the back of my head. You choked on the pain and I savored it.
“Fuck-FUCK!” You swore, yanking at my ears in a way that sent a thrill down my spine, “I belong to you! I belong to you!”
I abruptly let you go, and you gasped. Blood soaked your shirt, chilling your warm body with a shudder. Tears welled in your eyes that you refused to let spill, and that excited me more than if you cried openly. It was cute.
I tilted my head in a lie of innocence, rubbing my thumbs along your waist—including over your freshly made wound. You hissed in pain, and I could see the tears threaten to fall. I wanted to see you cry. I wanted you to try your hardest to resist tears, only to give in. I wanted you to surrender.
You didn’t. You swallowed your pain and glared at me, “Asshole!” You snapped, though there was hardly any venom in it. Mostly pain. Funny.
I descended further, pushing your legs up, your back pressed against the arm of the couch. For the first time, your face flushed with exhilarating warmth. Electricity washed over my metal and skeletal spine. Your breath heaved—not in pain, but in hot anticipation. I could eat your attention, and it was mouthwatering. In a show of faux affection, I nuzzled against your inner-thigh, and you grabbed my rabbit ears in a way that made me see stars. I could feel your pulse from your femoral artery, a sensation that made me dizzy. It was as fast as a bunny’s...
“Bonnie-!” You gasped as I angled my jaw over your inner thigh.
“D̷o̶ ̴y̶o̴u̸ ̵w̵a̶n̷t̵ ̶m̶e̶,̷ ̶c̵a̴r̸r̸o̴t̵?̵” I said, my mock air cold and heavy against your thigh. If you said anything other than ‘yes’, I would tear your leg from your body.
“Th-!” You squeaked, flushed with warmth from cheeks to chest. “There?!”
... Okay, I’d make an exception for that.
I relished how you flustered, a hiss of air leaving your teeth as you couldn’t bear to look at me. I caressed your thigh with my thumb, a coaxing reminder of who was holding you. You could be so lovely when you unraveled...
You swallowed, heavy and hot, before slamming your eyes shut and nodding. “Yes. I want you.” You said, and it was closer to a delightful whine than the resolve you wanted it to be.
I was slow. I wanted you to feel it. I wanted you to enjoy it. I wanted you to desire my body as much as I desired yours. I was gentle. I only bruised you, even though I wanted to make you bleed again. You should be thanking me. Praising me. Loving me. It infuriated me that you didn’t. I was so good to you, and you were awful to me. But the way you gripped me and covered your own mouth to stop from making any noise was enough to sedate me.
I gave my best attempt at sucking, though it ended up more of a gnaw. There was no command prompt for ‘suck’ and my lungs were littered with holes.
I drank what emotion spilled from you, indulging in how I could make you feel. Your eyes met mine, and I shivered. Your pupils were moons, your cheeks flushed hot, you bit your trembling lip. Pleasure warmed me in a heavy shudder—fuck, I could’ve moaned under your blushed attention.
I let you go. You let out a heavy exhale, closing your eyes in relief. Did you feel cold without me? Did you miss me already? I wished you did.
> execute command ([HOLD_HANDS]) = Yes/No?
Oh, excellent idea, Bonnie.
>Yes.
I took your hand, the one I held the night before, and held it to my maw. I rubbed your soft, warm hand against my tattered lips, feeling every callous and every tendon in your flesh. I wished it mattered to you as much as it mattered to me... You were still disoriented by my last bite. I found that so endearing; my unmoving smile could’ve widened. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to kiss it tenderly, or bite it viciously.
“Whatever it is,” You said with exhausted breath, your head falling back on the couch’s arm. “The answer is yes. Just do it.”
Bite it is.
I slammed my jaw around your palms and fingers. You screamed, grabbing at my jaw to pull me off. Blood splattered against my face, dripping into your couch. You were trying to rip your hand out of my bite, but it was only tearing your flesh more. I loved how you squirmed in pain, twisting and writhing to free yourself. Your eyes welled with those unshed tears, as you seethed through your clenched teeth.
Your pain was candy to me. I would make myself the center of your psyche, one way or another.
“Let go! Let go!” You were pulling on my lower jaw, futile and weak and so entertaining. You were so helpless, it charmed me. Finally—finally—the icing on the delicious cake, tears you wanted to hold back dropped down your lovely cheeks. Poor thing. Affection and pleasure washed over me. You shut your eyes tight, your weak resistance slowing, “Please-!”
I let go, and you pulled your bloodied hand to your chest. You cradled it. Your whole body was shaking as you took deep, tentative breaths. You were calming yourself. Did I make you anxious, carrot? I felt Bonnie at the edges of my mind yearn to comfort you with his protocol. I took great pleasure in denying him and you.
“Bastard!” You cursed sharply under your breath before glaring at me. I found it amusing you still had the spirit to glare. “I need this hand! To fix you!”
I tilted my head. It was slow, mechanical.
You growled under your breath, “Don’t play innocent. My blood is staining your teeth!”
I thought you’d at least have the tact to play along. “P̶a̶t̸h̵e̵t̶i̶c̶.̷”
“Pathetic? Pathetic?” Your voice rose in anger. Brave. Stupid. “If you weren’t a seven-foot metal monster-”
I held your hand to my muzzle, sinking my claws into your wound with a sharp hiss from you. “I̵t̴'̶s̵ ̵b̸a̵r̸e̶l̵y̵ ̵a̶ ̸s̷c̸r̵a̶t̵c̴h̵.̶’”
You swiped your hand back, and I let you. “It still hurts.” You agreed? I was trying to provoke you...
I found it odd how cavalier you were being. You were frustrated, but you were masking your fear with it. Was it a defense mechanism? Did you feel protected when you hid your fear from me? I wanted to pull it out of you and make you face it.
You groaned, “I need to wash these...”
When you stood up, I grabbed your wrist and pulled you back on the couch.
“Y̴o̵u̷ ̷a̷r̶e̷.̸.̵.̴” What was the right word? “.̶.̶.̴c̸o̴m̸p̶l̵a̷c̸e̷n̵t̵.̷”
“...That’s not the word I’d use.”
“D̸o̷ ̴y̵o̸u̶ ̵t̶h̷i̴n̷k̵ ̸I̵ ̴w̷o̷n̴'̵t̷ ̴k̸i̴l̶l̵ ̴y̷o̴u̸?̶”
You furrowed your brow. Emotions I didn’t recognize crossed your features. Was it calculation? Confusion? I wasn’t sure, and the puzzle of it made me tilt my head, heavy and broken rabbit ears shifting to one side. After choosing your words carefully, you said, “I wouldn’t let you bite me if I didn’t think you were going to kill me.”
My head twitched mechanically. My gears churned. I didn’t understand what you meant.
You picked up on this—something I hated, I didn’t like being read. “You need... this,” You took my hand in yours, the bloody hand. It sent a thrill up my arm, “Right?”
I stared at your hand obsessively. Furiously. Rage encompassed my entire being, it burned my metal bones. As if it wasn’t humiliating enough that I relied on you—that I keeled at your feet just to taste you, and rotted in desperation when you were gone—how dare you point it out? Did you think you were safe? Did you think that my neurosis protected you? I loathed my attachment to you. I loathed you. And when I was done with you, I would break your body until you were unrecognizable.
My voice box glitched and popped in my rage, “T̴h̷a̸t̵ ̷d̷o̸e̵s̵ ̷n̴o̵t̷ ̷m̶a̵k̷e̴ ̶y̴o̵u̵ ̴s̴a̴f̸e̷.̵” I hissed.
“Don’t be mad!” You said, aghast at my reaction, “I don’t care what you need, you’re a seven-foot-tall monster bunny robot!”
“R̶a̵b̸b̵i̶t̶.̴”
“Whatever!” You sucked a sharp breath in through your teeth, “Look. You need me for...” You squeezed my hand and I felt that thrill again, “this. And I need you to not kill me. I have a feeling it’s not in your nature to... not kill me. So.” You braced yourself, setting your jaw and looking at me with tired, worried eyes, “We need each other.”
My rage drained.
You needed me.
I would’ve preferred you needed me in the same way I needed you. But... I didn’t hate it. You were right. It was in my nature to kill you. I wanted to, almost as much as I needed to have you. It felt a... decent trade. Your life for your touch.
It wasn’t my first partnership. I knew how to get along. Of course, in this body it was less of a partnership and more of a menage a trois.
“I̸t̵'̶s̴ ̷i̷n̸ ̴m̷y̴ ̷n̶a̶t̸u̵r̶e̶ ̷t̶o̵ ̵h̸u̵r̷t̵ ̶y̷o̵u̴.̷” It was less of a warning, and more of a promise.
You shrugged, “I have a high pain tolerance.”
My wicked heart skipped a beat.
When I didn’t say anything more, you swallowed as you masked your fear in dry humor, “So... Can I wash these? Or would you have me die of sepsis?”
I didn’t respond to you. You eyed me as if you expected me to stop you when you stood up. I watched you carefully. I followed you when you went to your kitchen sink.
You checked your wounds gingerly. I was careful. I only pierced your waist and hand, and I didn’t bite clean through like I could’ve. My end of our deal. You still rasped through your teeth as you took a washcloth to your waist and palm.
You ignored my presence when I followed you to your closet. You pulled out a first aid kit. You began treating your wounds with something that made you hiss. You picked up some bandages, and I grabbed your wrist. You looked at me with tired eyes. Your end of our deal. You set the bandages down.
“The wires won’t get here for another two hours,” You said, avoiding my eye contact. “I can’t do anything until then.”
My eyes were transfixed on my bite marks, flaunting who owned you. Mine...
You tentatively made your way to your room. You stood by your bed, one hand on the sheets. You were gauging my reaction. You were asking for permission. How cute. I was tempted to deny you.
I nodded to the bed. You shivered, and I found that delightful.
You laid on the bed, and I stood next to you, watching you. A look of discomfort crossed your face when you saw me watching you. You curled away from me.
> execute command ([FOLLOW]) = Yes/No?
> Yes.
You flinched when you felt my weight on the bed. I slipped my hands over your waist—over my lovebites—and hugged you tight to me. I could smell you. You were so warm. I loved feeling you. I could hear your heartbeat this close. It was my lullaby.
Could you fall asleep like this? I wouldn’t mind if you did... that meant you were willingly making yourself vulnerable to me. I also wouldn’t mind if you didn’t, that meant you were too scared of me to listen to your own body.
This partnership... I didn’t mind it. For now. When I grow bored, I could just kill you. You could be fun for me, though. I wondered how far you would go to cater to my desires; how far you’d be willing to stretch if I threatened you—threatened your friend. You did say you had a high pain tolerance, after all. I would enjoy pushing you to your limit.
For now, your heartbeat was enough to sate me.
Apparently, you did fall asleep, because you didn’t stir when there was a knock at the door. I squeezed you until you were gasping and choking awake, clawing at my arms tight around your torso.
“Shit...” You rubbed your eyes with your wrist. Your voice was hoarse with fatigue. Despite how I woke you, your gentle hand came to caress my cheek anyway, “Hi, Bonnie...” You knew how to play your role well.
I leaned into your touch. I wished I could say it was only Bonnie...
“What time is it...?” You blindly palmed your bedside table. There was a wire, unconnected to anything. You groaned, “Oh right. My phone.”
You stumbled out of bed. I wondered if you were numb where I held you. I hoped so. I followed you as you yawned, meandering to your living room. When you saw your clock, you moved to your front door. I knew you were only grabbing your delivered supplies, but it still didn’t stop the panicked rage that swept over me as I saw you open the front door. Even Bonnie’s metal wires were frenzied with command prompts to stop you.
My madness calmed when you closed the door behind you. You looked exhausted. You held up the wires, shaking them, “Shall we?”
I held out my hand to you, and you took it.
With your thin computer set up, we sat at your kitchen table. You drank a cold, brightly colored drink that looked like antifreeze. You plugged your wires into your computer, holding the ends meant to go into me in your hand.
“Uhm...” You looked to the side bashfully, “I need to put this in you...”
I only stared at you.
“Do you want them in the back or the front?”
“F̶r̴o̴n̷t̵.̴”
You swallowed, “Are you sure? I have to dig through all that-”
“F̶r̴o̴n̷t̵.̴”
You stalled, “...Does it hurt?”
“L̸i̷k̴e̸ ̷a̵ ̴m̴o̷t̸h̸e̷r̸f̴-̷-̶c̴k̴-̷-̴.̵” My voicebox glitched. Dumb rabbit.
You recoiled from me, not expecting that answer. You chewed your bottom lip, “Do you want to do it?”
I twitched, “I̸ ̵c̷a̸n̵'̴t̴.̸” Even if I did have the dexterity, I wouldn’t know where to put them.
You took a shaky breath. You held the wires over my chest.
You weren’t moving.
“S̵t̴o̴p̸ ̷h̴e̴s̶i̸t̸a̷t̴i̸n̵g̸.̵”
“Give me more than five seconds!” You snapped at me, “It’s not so easy...”
“D̸i̸d̸n̷'̸t̶ ̴s̸t̴o̸p̶ ̴y̴o̶u̷ ̶b̴e̸f̵o̵r̸e̶.̵”
“That was before I knew you could feel!” You huffed, dropping the wires in your lap. “And also were violently murderous.”
My head inclined to the side, slow and mechanical. “D̵o̸n̷'̵t̴ ̶y̷o̷u̴ ̴w̵a̷n̸t̵ ̶t̴o̸ ̸h̶u̶r̶t̴ ̴m̵e̴?̶ ̸I̴ ̵l̷i̸k̵e̶d̴ ̴h̵u̸r̸t̸i̸n̵g̴ ̵y̴o̵u̶.̷”
My taunt did nothing, to my chagrin. “Yeah well, not all of us are sadists.”
I bet I could change that, if I made you hate me enough. I just couldn’t seem to get you angry past moderately frustrated. Maybe if I hurt your friend... Another time, another place. “C̷o̴w̶a̷r̵d̵.̸”
“Alright, relax.” You rolled your eyes, “You have to promise not to murder me when it hurts.”
“N̵o̴ ̵p̵r̸o̴m̸i̶s̵e̴s̴.̵”
You exhaled, shaky and tired, “Of course.”
You swallowed as your trembling hands approached my viscera. It burned as you prodded into me, but at least I could move. Fizzing and popping spilled from my voicebox like ichor. I slammed my claws on your table and you flinched. You worked faster in your shaking fear, and I knew it was over when I felt that jolt of electricity through me. That terrible terrible suspension.
A low, dark growl—choking and strangled—left my voicebox. You swiped your hands back to yourself, wiping your soiled fingers on your legs.
Without another word, you were typing on your computer. Code flashed across your screen, a language familiar, and yet a puzzle to me. Henry always had to be different in his programming... And you, with your quick wit, figured it out in nearly a few days. Damn you...
My voicebox wheezed with strangled breath and I gripped the table, digging lacerations into it.
Your eyes briefly met mine, before returning to the computer, “...Can you feel this, too?”
Every. Pressed. Key. “F̵i̴n̸i̸s̸h̶ ̷u̸p̸.̴”
You continued typing, “Don’t fuss. I’m working on it.”
I sneered, low and threatening.
“I mean, thank you, Bonnie, for being so patient and gracious.”
Better.
I could watch you like this. Your typing that soothed me, your breathing that calmed me, your heartbeat that lulled me. My mind... it felt less fragmented the more time I spent with you. I was still mad, no doubt, but the madness felt less inflamed when with you. I doubt that it was you specifically who did that—typing, breathing, and heartbeat could come from any living creature. But whether or not someone else could satisfy me enough to keep me from killing them... I wasn’t entirely sure. You had a unique trait: you were exciting enough to keep me entertained, and useful enough to keep alive.
It was almost as if you were made to be mine. Even Bonnie favored you.
Steadily, my strangled breath diminished to a low hum, and my grip loosened to a gentle rest. You were... useful. I didn’t have to kill you after you fixed me. You said it yourself, my body was decay incarnate and you were a perfect technician. I could keep you. I would make you beg for it, of course, but you could be mine more permanently than I originally planned. As long as you kept soothing me... and entertaining me.
There was a click. You let out an exhale and leaned back in your chair. Time had slipped through my fingers again. It was fine. Because you put me back together, and I would enjoy making you beg to be mine.
You cracked your neck, “Finally. It’s done."
> Execute([MOVE])
error
failed to execute command
[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active
...What.
You leaned forward, tilting your head as you looked at me, “Can you move, Bonnie?”
> Execute([MOVE])
error
failed to execute command
[STORAGE PROTOCOL] = active
You exhaled in relief, “Thank goodness.”
You... You LIAR!
“Oh, come on,” You, filthy snake and venomous tongue, raised your eyebrows. “You had to see this coming.”
How dare you... You vile CHEATER!
You turned to your computer and started typing, before it sang like a phone. Another lie.
Rage consumed me, and it was fire. You filthy LIAR! You rotten little BASTARD! When I’d move—I’d rip you apart by the joints! I’d savor every tear and pop from your body! I’d tear you open and drink from your viscera! I’d see you BURN! YOU’D BURN YOU’D BURN YOU’D BURN YOU’D BURN I’D KILL YOU I’D KILL YOU I’D KILL YOU I’D KILL YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I’D KILL YOU I’D KILL YOU I’D KILL YOU I’D KILL YOU!!!
Your name was said by your coward of a friend from your computer, but I was dripping with too much malice to process it, “What the hell? Where have you been, I’ve been calling you like crazy!”
“My phone broke,” Liar liar liar liar LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR. “Did you quit yet?”
“Did I quit? No! I’m literally in the car right now heading to your place to see if you got MURDERED!”
“Don’t!” Your eyes fell on me, fear cracking through your lies. I’d tear your friend apart in front of you. I’d rub your face in their bloodied organs. I’d make you eat their flesh. “I’m gonna come to you. Look, it’s an insane story. You need to call your work and have them pick up the animatronic from my place. Before midnight. I’m not gonna be here. And then you need to quit. And probably skip town.”
“What?!”
True desperation seeped into your voice, the kind I longed to pull from you. You said your cowardly friend’s name, “Please! This is important. We can talk about it in person. I-” You swallowed. “I mean it. Please.”
You were pathetic. You were weak and wretched and stupid and dishonest and I was disgusted I even entertained the idea of humoring you. You would pay for betraying me...
The voice on your computer sighed, “Okay. Come soon.”
You exhaled in tense relief, “I’ll be right there.” You ended the call.
You closed your thin computer. There was silence. My eyes burned into yours because that’s all I could do.
“You’re mad.” You finally regarded me, you traitor. “Don’t be.”
Oh! Well, now that you’ve said that, EVERYTHING IS ALL BETTER NOW.
“I really did fix the protocol that makes you go towards sounds,” You held my gaze, and I hated you for it. I hated you so much. I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you- “And the storage protocol is only temporary. After tonight, it’ll be gone.”
This was worse. This wasn’t about stopping me. This wasn’t about some greater good you were attempting to achieve. This was about leaving me. You wanted to leave me.
You heartless cheater.
“I don’t care what you do after this,” Why didn’t you care? What was it about me that left you unfeeling? Did I have to make you hate me for you to care? You were cruel. “But remember I helped you. It’s a fair trade. Your freedom for my freedom.”
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. And if you thought it was fair, you had no idea what I was giving up to let you go.
You held my face in your hands, and it burned me. How could you touch me after trying to leave me? How could you caress me as if you loved me when you were trying to get away? I wouldn’t let you—I couldn’t let you. You were mine. You were MINE! “Goodbye, Bonnie. I bet I’ll be seeing you on the news.”
Metal and flesh alike screamed internally in agony when you let me go. My rage was spoiled with Bonnie’s sorrow, but I felt it all twice. How could you leave me? After I decided you were mine, you left. After being willing to SPARE you, you left! You were heartless and cruel and weak and terrible and pathetic and mine and mine and mine and mine and mine and how could you leave me when I needed you?!
You closed the front door behind you and white noise never consumed me more.
You wanted to convince me to let you go. You fabricated this ‘fair trade’ in an attempt to pacify me. To make it seem as though you weren’t worth the effort. You weren’t. You were a liar and cruel and wretched. That didn’t matter. You were mine. You couldn’t escape me. I wouldn’t allow it.
Both my metal and my rotting heart broke in the white noise of your home.
“...And they’re not home?” A deep voice said as your front door opened.
“Nah,” Another voice responded. “We can just load him up in the truck and haul him over. The new night guard is already on duty.”
“What time were we supposed to pick him up? I don’t like being around that thing at night...”
“Relax! They said at midnight, or something. Let’s just get this over with...”
“Alright... I swear, if this thing starts moving while we’re driving...”
> [PLAY MODE] = Active
> enter [GAME]: . . .
> Execute[TAG]
